Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Pressure points in my head, you know just the right buttons to press. Demons crawling under my bed, 500 count sheets to shield me I guess. Callous ensconced heart, no more songs plucked from its' cords. Sunday morning lark, singing songs needless of words. Round and round forevermore. I'll never be what I once was before. It's maddening it is. Meaningless.
0
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC
Meaningless
Pressure points in my head, you know just the right buttons to press. Demons crawling under my bed, 500 count sheets to shield me I guess. Callous ensconced heart, no more songs plucked from its' cords. Sunday morning lark, singing songs needless of words. Round and round forevermore. I'll never be what I once was before. It's maddening it is. Meaningless.
andy-plenkers
Written by
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem